


it started with a whisper

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boy Scouts, F/M, Girl Scouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s becoming increasingly clear to Bellamy that his sister’s troupe leader, Clarke Griffin, is a problem.</p>
<p>(in other words, Clarke and Bellamy as the leaders of their respective Girl and Boy Scout troops.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	it started with a whisper

**Author's Note:**

> having only been in a Girl Scout troupe for a week and never in a Boy Scout one, any liberties I take with these worthy establishments are entirely my own and no disrespect intended.

It’s becoming increasingly clear to Bellamy that his sister’s troupe leader, Clarke Griffin, is a problem.

A day hasn’t gone by since Octavia first joined the local Girl Scouts troupe (after she _dared_ him to say something about it, chin raised and eyes blazing) that she hasn’t come home talking about Clarke. Clarke is a _doctor_ and she showed us how the human heart works, Clarke knows how to _hunt_ and she promised to show us how to use a bow and arrow, Clarke knows the _coolest_ style of braids, better than the ones on Pinterest even, and taught them all to do them, even Raven, who doesn’t care about anything that doesn’t run on an engine. Clarke makes hot chocolate and popcorn every troupe meeting and she puts peppermint bits in the hot chocolate, and she showed them how to draw and took them to the art museum downtown and _never_ laughs at their questions, no matter what.

Bellamy wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Octavia’s newfound devotion to this Griffin woman. It’s been almost eight years since their mother died, and even before that, it’s always been the two of them against the world.  He can’t entirely shake the uncomfortable feeling he’s been replaced.

Because Octavia’s became so involved in her Girl Scout troupe, it only made sense (to who, he wasn’t entirely certain) for him to look into the local Boy Scouts league. Which is how he got saddled with the most ragtag group of Boy Scouts to ever attempt a bow knot. His boys Atom and Jasper and Monty, Miller and Finn, a motley crew if there ever was one. But they’re _his_ motley crew, dammit, and somehow through the sheer force of his personality, he’s molded them all into a cohesive unit and the boys follow him like puppies. Okay, Jasper might trip over his own feet and for the love of _God,_ nobody ever wants to give Murphy matches, but they’ve managed.

The chance to meet the illustrious Clarke Griffin finally arrives when a car pulled up in the driveway of their tiny two-story house and he got a clenching feeling in his stomach. A slender blonde woman of medium height got out from the driver’s side. She went around to the passenger’s side, opening the door to help Octavia out, whose right arm is bandaged and held close to her chest. He knocked his chair over in his haste to get out of the house, taking the porch steps two at a time to meet them before they got to the house. “What happened?” he demanded more harshly than he intended. Octavia winced at his tone and the blonde woman met his gaze squarely. She had one of those delicate profiles like an old-fashioned cameo brooch, the blonde hair and blue eyes only added to the impression of a fairy-tale princess. But she carried herself with calm authority, not even blinking at his tone of voice. 

“Octavia had a run-in with a bike messenger on our trip to the art museum,” she replied in the kind of voice that probably made people’s blood pressure lower just by hearing it. “He clipped her arm and I gave her stitches and bandages. She’s fine.”

“Why wasn’t I called?” he said more fiercely than he intended, because that was the only way he knew how to react to fear, with anger.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” his younger sister put in anxiously. “I knew you’d freak out and Clarke knew what to do.”

His eyes snapped back to the blonde woman who smiled back easily. “She’s fine,” she repeated. “She’s a tough girl. Let’s get her inside.” Without further ado, she stepped into Octavia’s side easily and Bellamy automatically moved to his sister’s left. Between the two of them, they helped her inside. Once he got her seated at the kitchen table, Bellamy automatically started pulling a bag of frozen peas and the blonde woman took pressed them to Octavia’s arm. Octavia whimpered slightly at the cold and the blonde woman passed a hand over her hair gently. “Ssshh,” she soothed. Bellamy stared at her in disbelief; _he_ was the only one allowed to stroke Octavia’s hair. “You’re fine, it’s fine.” She turned to Bellamy, one hand still resting on the crown of Octavia’s head.

“You’ll need to change the bandages every few days,” she said matter-of-factly.  “I can come by and help with that if you want.”

He was on the verge of refusing when he looked at the hand on his sister’s head and the way Octavia, who never let anyone other than him touch her casually, leaned into the touch unconsciously. He swallowed back the words before they could leave his mouth.

“Thank you,” he got out. “I’d appreciate that.”

She smiled at him, deep and brilliant, lighting up her face like a comet. He felt like a bright light had been put directly in his eyes. “Good,” she said. “I’d happy to.” The hand on his sister’s head held itself to him. “I’m Clarke Griffin, by the way,” she added. “I don’t think you and I got a chance to be properly introduced.”

“Bellamy Blake,” he said automatically, because their mother might have raised them on her own, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t taught them manners, and he shook her hand. It was small and strong and warm, with a firm grip.

“You’re the leader of the Boy Scout troupe 100,” she said, eyes lighted up with recognition. “I tutor Jasper some days; he talks about you all the time.”

“He does?” he said intelligently and she laughed, the sound bright and clear.

“All the time,” she confirmed. “He’s never lasted very long in group settings, but clearly he does very well with you.”

“Thank you,” he said, relieved to note he was actually being coherent now. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Clarke Griffin’s smile could’ve been classified as a _weapon_ , because that’s the only reason why his heart’s pounding so hard at the sight of it.

“You’ve done very well with all of them,” she said. “I should have them meet my girls sometime.”

Octavia groaned, making Bellamy remember there was such a person as his younger sister in the room and finally let go of Clarke’s hand. “I’ve meet them,” she informed Clarke. “They’re all a bunch of weirdoes.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but bristle in defense of his boys, but Clarke cut in smoothly—“No weirder than any of us,” she said cheerfully.  “Leave those peas on for a few more minutes ‘Tave, and call me if you need anything.”

She turned to go and Bellamy blurted out, “I’ll walk you out,” and glanced at Octavia, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

“Go,” his baby sister commanded him. “Be a gentleman.”

He resented the implication he didn’t _know_ how to be a gentleman, so he walked Clarke back out her car. “Octavia talks about you all the time,” he said when they reached the driver’s side. “It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

Clarke smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m very fond of Octavia,” she said, leaning her hip against the door easily, “I know we’re supposed to be impartial and not to have favorites, but I can’t help but like her.”

“She grows on you,” he agreed. “Like a fungus.”

Clarke laughed again, throwing her head back, exposing the strong white column of her throat. “Spoken like a true older brother,” she said in amusement. “Well, Bellamy Blake, it was nice to meet you. And please let me know when our troupes can meet. Octavia can give you my phone number.”

She stepped into her car and Bellamy watched her drive away, with the weird feeling in his chest _something_ had just begun.

“See? I told you she was awesome,” Octavia said later, as he helped her cover her bandages in plastic so she could take a shower.

“I never said she wasn’t,” Bellamy retorted.

“Yeah, but you never believed me before,” Octavia replied serenely.

He couldn’t argue with that, so he loftily refused to.

He called Clarke Griffin the next day, arranging for their troupes to meet for a soccer game. She smiled at him across the crowd of kids, all talking and laughing and bickering.

He doesn’t even _attempt_ to tell himself he’s not in trouble now.  


End file.
